


Time in a Bottle

by wigglebox



Series: Ineffable Husbands Week [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Falling In Love, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 20:36:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20516066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. - William Shakespeare, Sonnet 18





	Time in a Bottle

Photo by Tom Barrett on Unsplash

\--

If there was anything Aziraphale knew fully about himself is that decision making wasn’t his strong suit. Never had been, never will be. A few times the fog would clear and things would be easier to manage, but it wasn’t a constant behavior.

But it was decision time. Right then and there he had to decide what to do. 

They were taking an evening walk after a summer rainstorm passed by, leaving the ground smelling fresh and the air clear. The sun was setting in the distance, lighting everything on fire. They wanted to walk to dinner that evening, heading to a place nearby. It felt like a long day of little inconveniences that they could easily have taken care of, but lately hadn’t felt like using any cosmic endowments. 

So they walked. The air was cool with a soft breeze helping to push them along. They walked in step and took their time because all they had was time now and that was a good feeling to have. Everything felt good. 

Dinner was done, both slightly boozy, and they walked back under the night sky, the moon hidden by the city buildings on the horizon. Yes, everything felt good. The alcohol made the chilly night, unusually chilly for the season, seem warm and snug. Aziraphale felt the dopey smile on his face and allowed it to stay. He was smiling more now. 

The smiles made Crowley happy as well. It was an unusual emotion for him, Aziraphale knew that, but they were both uncovering different aspects of themselves. Turns out when extraneous stress was lifted out of Crowley’s existence, he knew how to smile without sinister intent. 

Just out of reach of a streetlamp in the park’s walkway, Crowley took hold of Aziraphale and drew him deeper into the shadows. They met in the same way they had for some time now, space invaded and hardly a molecule of air between them. Once a terrifying position to be in, Aziraphale soon found he enjoyed it. Their kisses were still new to the routine, both needing practice understanding their moves against each other but they were sweet nonetheless. 

They stayed in those shadows for enough time to make it their own. A kiss, then another kiss, each one slightly longer than the other one. If Aziraphale wasn’t slightly drunk from dinner, he definitely was now in the metaphorical sense.

This was fine. This was still acceptable. This wasn’t across the line yet. 

Crowley pulled away, just slightly, just enough. They were still almost completely pressed together in the still of the evening. No one else around them. It was like a bell jar descended over them for privacy. 

All of a sudden, Aziraphale knew what was about to happen. 

He had read in many books over many years, seen many interactions over the centuries of people declaring their feelings to someone. In the movies and books, they were often dripping in symbolism and intent. Swans, fireworks, music swelling as the person picks the proper time and place to make it the most impactful. 

Turns out, that was never needed. 

I love you and there were no fireworks. 

I love you and there were no swans or fountains or crashes of thematic lightning overhead; No dancers or singers or a crescendo of orchestra music. 

“I love you,” Crowley whispered and Aziraphale wondered, out of all things, if it was the first time Crowley ever whispered in his existence. Aziraphale never heard Crowley say anything that delicate or sound that vulnerable. It was a tone only for their ears only, an exclusive sound that was a shock to the system disguised in soft intimacy.

Aziraphale knew the declaration was coming for a while now but kept it in the back of his mind. They were both approaching that edge and it was a guess who was going to tumble over first, but Aziraphale had a suspicion it was going to be Crowley due to the fact Crowley was already there. Aziraphale had to play catch up. 

And hearing the words out loud opened the floodgates in Aziraphale ’s mind, unleashing all the conflicts he had been locking away so they didn’t spoil any new, fragile moments together. 

When Aziraphale imagined himself at that edge of love, he found himself peering over the edge debating on whether to jump or not, afraid he might drown.

It was the fall that'll kill him. The angel him. The ‘him’ he had only known and tried to keep hold of with both hands, ignoring it crumbling in his grasp. If he let go of it entirely, he would officially be something completely new. It was the fall that solidified both of their fates and locked everything from the past away permanently. 

It was the fall that’ll kill him but was it really falling if someone was there to catch him?

Aziraphale came back to himself, his head finally above the water as it slowly receded in his mind. He drew in a shaky breath and smiled into the face of his future.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the fic for Day #3 in 'Ineffable Husbands Week'! The prompt was: Fall/Plummet/Dive
> 
> I'm really a sucker for love confessions (along with mutual pining). 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
-Jen | Wigglebox


End file.
